In Golden Light
by LiquiDSoL
Summary: The Eternity Gate is broken. Mankind stands at the precipice of annihilation. One single elite member of the Legio Custodes, torn from his sworn father and liegelord, appears in another world where Mankind is oppressed by their machine overlords. Bathed in Golden Light, the lion of the Emperor shall be unleashed. Humanity will stand. M for violence, language, etc.
1. Prologue : Runeterran History

The Runeterran Modern Era : A Brief Overview

Many scholars over the decades have disagreed on the various turning points of Runeterran history. Time, after all, is subjective, and relative importance of certain events determine how some eras were implemented, recorded, and tracked. However, what is undisputed was the creation of the Modern Era, marked by the final Noxo-Demacian conflict that would see an end to the Lightshield Dynasty. History is not exactly clear as to why Noxus had declared war on Demacia; the conflict was a bloody victory, but a costly one. With a crippled economy and devastated homefront, Noxus had no choice but to accept economic support from the now united Commonwealth of Piltover and Zaun, more commonly called Zaunover for short.

RME (Runeterran Modern Era) 001-015

With a significantly larger amount of resources at their behest, the Commonwealth began a new age of technology, ushered in by the brilliant inventions of one Doctor Viktor Nikolaev. With his perfection of artificial intelligence, mental interfacing technology as well as quantum computing, Doctor Viktor had begun a golden age of creation and innovation. Noxus and the subservient Demacia alike entered an unprecedented period of growth and prosperity.

The Noxian military regime continued to grow, soon overtaking and the Freljord, Shurima, and a small portion of Ionia. Very few prisoners were taken, in behavior that could be considered rather unorthodox, especially considering Noxian Noxtoraa traditions. Scholars point to a change in the chemistry of Noxian High Command to include Commonwealth bureaucrats as a possible reason for such glaring cultural shifts.

RME 016-044

Doctor Viktor, on the other hand, worked tirelessly to further his projects, growing further and further away from the public domain, as he then continued to work on genetic modification, bionic implantation, mental augmentation, and various other questionably ethical experiments. Soon enough, he had created an almost perfect procedure, taking in recruits and volunteers to take part in what was Doctor Viktor described as "the natural evolution of mankind." Casualty rates were staggering; 74% of all volunteers died horrible, painful deaths, but the Doctor, backed by the Noxian High Council - mostly Lord Governor Swain - continued to work.

The surviving recruits were soon enough dubbed the Iron Hands, in reference to their limbs mostly being replaced with revolutionary bionics all made of a Blacksteel-Petricite alloy, dubbed Neosteel by its inventor, Professor Jayce Harbrand. These Iron Hands were handed over to the Noxian military to serve as high-ranking special forces units, numbering in the few hundreds. The exact number remains to this day classified, as each soldier was extremely loyal, intelligent, tactically capable, and existed beyond the physical bounds of a normal human. What is known is that these Iron Hands lived short, bloody lives, as the process had not yet been perfected. Each Iron Hand was paramount in the furthering of Noxus's control over greater Runeterra.

RME 045-060

Technology continued to be innovated upon and furthered. However, pockets and rifts to the outer dimension simply referred to as the Void began to erupt in southern Shurima. In response, soldiers had been sent, but the Void menace had spread all across Shurima, devouring all biological beings in its wake. Doctor Viktor once again was commissioned, and in a surprise showing of a few secret projects, revealed to the world the Battlecast line of Standard Construction Automation Reactor, or the SCAR for short. Each was a self-contained supercomputer intelligence, contained within a facility that was designed to rapidly construct and deploy various combat role machines based on what it deemed to be the most effective, such as the highly destructive "Erebus" artillery platform, the floating, gravity-manipulating "Overseer" platform, the frontline neosteel-bladed "Devastator" platform, or perhaps the rare "Castellan" universal platform.

While Viktor's automated machine armies were a welcome respite to the Noxian people, many began to become suspicious and distrustful of Viktor's machines - after all, who could claim to control such a thing but the creator itself? Even despite Viktor's insistence that the SCARs would be totally cooperative with Noxian high command, and even went so far as to say that they would be deactivated and destroyed when "peace reigned," in Doctor Viktor's own words. With the Void threat contained for the most part, life continued on as normal, though Doctor Viktor's EvoCorp, founded soon before he unveiled the Battlecast line, grew more and more powerful.

The Ionian Council of Elders surrendered peacefully in the face of such overwhelming force, and Ionia joined the Noxian Empire reluctantly, though with minimal losses.

Eventually, the modification process became perfected, at the cost of becoming extremely expensive. In response, Doctor Viktor dubbed the program, "The Project." The first generations of "Projects" were chosen from known heroes, infamous individuals, or simply people with known power to act not only as champions of the Noxian Empire, but also as representatives of the people. The first chosen were as follows :

Vayne and Lucian of Demacia

Ashe of Freljord

Vi and Ekko of the Commonwealth

Darius and Katarina of Noxus Prime

Yasuo and Master Yi from Ionia

These individuals were never heard from again in the next decade, and while EvoCorp continued to grow, another wave of recruits were drawn in. This time they were criminals and unwanted, given a chance at redemption in service to the people. They were :

Zed, Kayn and Jhin of Ionia

Aspect Leona of Targon

Demacian rebels Fiora, Lux

The Project once again went quiet, and EvoCorp continued to work in silence.

RME 061- 072 (Time of Recording)

In a shocking turn of events, void rifts opened up all across Noxus Prime. Waves upon waves of void entities spilled out, overtaking and completely destroying all of Noxus Prime, save for a few thousand survivors that hid in tunnels, sewers, or simply within deep vaults. Noxian High Command was obliterated entirely, leaving behind only a festering wound where Noxus Prime once stood. Doctor Viktor soon enough revealed himself to the world, now a completely cybernetic individual, and declared himself the inheritor of the Noxian Empire. With vast armies of Battlecast platforms at his side, his rule was generally uncontested - and finally, Viktor revealed the Projects to the world. Reshaped and recast into cybernetically enhanced superhumans, each Project was a small army in their own right. Each Project retained fragments of their personality and knowledge, as to ensure that the image of these infamous or famous beings were retained, though they were all part of a large neural webway known as "The Synapse," from which orders, memories, and guidelines were issued to each Project, as well as ensuring their unwavering loyalty.

Each Project was dedicated to a variety of tasks, though most served as personal bodyguards to Doctor Viktor, known now as The Creator, while others served to hunt down those that resisted The Creator's control - a task force of Projects was enough for a city to surrender before a single drop of blood was spilled.

What is known about EvoCorp and the Creator's current desires can be summed up with 'Interdimensional Travel.' It is presumed that the Void and its rifts are currently being studied. Furthermore, Projects have been disconnected from the Synapse, a process that presumably gives them mental acuity and control over themselves. Some Projects are confirmed rogue, while some have willingly chosen to stay with EvoCorp and the Creator.

As a number of Rogue Projects continue to act through the known world, it can be said that some Projects are actively attempting to destabilize EvoCorp's control. While some can consider this a natural rebellion against what could be seen as an authoritarian tyranny, scholars also believe that this rebellion will only serve to backtrack the enormous strides in equality, freedom, and luxury that the common people of the New Runeterran Confederacy enjoy. It is undeniable that the remaining loyalist Projects, governing officials, as well as the various SCARs are working nonstop to ensure that these remaining rampant Projects are brought to justice.

 **Important :**

 **AN : Hey there folks. Been a long time since I've written anything on the site. This little historic outline written in a historian's perspective will serve as the backdrop and setting for this new fic. I hope it's consistent enough and clear enough that you guys can get a general gist of what's happening. I have one of two plans : either make this a Crossover fic with Warhammer, or just stick with League characters and stuff.**

 **I'll be posting this as both a crossover and noncrossover. Whichever gets more interest, I'll be working on here and there. Review, follow, and favorite if you're interested.**

 **Sol out.**


	2. Chapter 1 : Inexorable War

**In Golden Light**

 **Chapter 1 : Inexorable War**

 **_**

 **Deep in the Eldar Webway : 005.M31**

A howling daemon's ethereal vitae plumed outwards, jetting all over his now nigh-crimson armor. Only remnants of the brilliant auramite gold could be seen underneath, coated with layer upon layer of detestable warp essence. His unmoving, focused features curled every slightly into a snarl.

How long ago did their bolt casters run dry?

"Shield Captain!"

Calyptos's hail over the vox shook the thought from his mind, glancing over at his three remaining comrades - his brothers, his fellow Custodes. None were without injury - Calyptos's left hand was missing, Telemasien had gashes and rending scars scoring his chestplate, layers of that previously flawless, venerable warplate cast aside like worthless chaff, lost forever to the depths of the webway. Noble Alintrus, with an entire arm torn from its socket, stood supported by the long haft of his guardian spear. A moment's respite allowed the three to approach their commanding officer. He fell silent, looking just past them into the cavernous mouth, opening up into one of the many branches of the webway.

They were once numbered twelve golden guardians, alongside numerous Sisters of Silence, two titans, and hundreds of the Legio Cybernetica's mechanical cohorts. Now, they numbered just four and a single warhound titan, devoid of its crew after a swarm of warp monstrosities tore open its service shafts, poured in, and feasted on the princepts and her men.

"Tally count and date, Calyptos," he finally replied, shifting his grasp upon his own guardian spear to observe the Adrathic Destructor upon the head of the blade, a finger scraping built up grime from the barrel.

"Sixteen thousand, eight-hundred and forty-four eliminated, Shield Captain. 9 months, sixteen days, four hours and - eighteen minutes," came the calm reply.

Nine months. They had been fighting for nine whole months in this cavern, onset from all sides by demonic entities seeking to breach their ward and make way for Terra itself. He pursed his lips, listening to the cavern's eerie silence. The cavern reeked of gore and murder, the entirety of the cavern painted various shades of red, purples, and pinks - remnants of their less than corporeal foes. With a thought, he ignored the scent, willing his senses to focus on more pressing matters.

Like ammunition.

With an Adrathic molecular disintegration weapon, he had no such concerns for ammunition, only having to worry about overheating and overusing the mechanism. His men, as battered and injured as they were, could and would continue to wage war; he had no doubts of this. Not from arrogance, but from understanding of who his men were.

They were Custodes. They were the pinnacle of human existence, second perhaps to only the Emperor's sons - even the damned few that turned away from His light. In each Custodes were millenia of genecrafting and biological secrets, making a single Custodes more valuable than some planets in the Imperium. Each were warriors without peer, timeless trained in a hundred thousand different forms, over hundreds or near thousands of years. Even without ammunition, he had no doubts that his men could lead the charge into a horde of daemons and live to ponder upon the mysteries of these enemies, to craft and perform more efficient and precise methods of ending these disgusting amalgamations of their pathetic existences.

But even a Custodian could not live forever. Talmon, Alexandros, Kaisar, Olim, he mused. Each of his men knew that. But only in death does duty end, and they knew this all too well.

 _"...Shield Captain, report."_ his vox crackled to life. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. He almost hesitated at the first, almost surprised at the first contact with the chain of command that he'd encountered in a few months now. They were deep in the webway; the vox network struggled to navigate through this quasi-dimension. He sent a tendril of thought, the synaptic link between mind and machine activating his own vox bead as well.

"Captain General. All units save myself and three Custodes have been lost. One titan remains unmanned, with the vast majority of its hull and mechanisms disabled," he replied.

He could almost hear his commanding officer sigh. _"Are you capable of holding? Another sodality is on the way to relieve and rearm, approximately two weeks out."_

He pursed his lips. He turned his gaze pointedly to the three behind him. As the voice of the Captain General spilled over them, they stood up proudly - but hollowly, exhaustion and injury oozing from them, even as they ignored the pain of their harrowing wounds. He closed his eyes, and responded.

"That would be impossible, Captain General."

There was a pause, as Constantin Valdor took in the report. He had no need to embellish. He had no need to explain. He had no need to die pointlessly.

The vox crackled with another sigh - this bloody war was taking a toll on even the Emperor's right hand. " ...We have little time. Attempt to overload the Titan fusion core if possible. If not… you have your orders. Gloriana in Exelcius Terra."

The vox crackled into silence. Nothing followed, as he raised his head to his men. Each of them were silent, as they always were. He turned his gaze to the titan's entrance shaft, rended open upon its left ankle. He made for it, watching the three last brothers take their last positions in the yawning maw that was the cavern.

He stepped inside.

 **_**

 **31 Hours, 16 Minutes Later**

From within the command center of the titan, he watched as the three last golden defenders made their stand at the base of the titan. There was no hope for them survive.

But that did not mean they could not claim victory.

"Brothers," he murmured into his vox. Three pings of acknowledgements returned, accompanied by shrieks, screams, and howls of bloodshed and death. Limbs flew, vitae sprayed and stomachs were disemboweled. Each of the three Custodes fought for their lives - no, for their duties. Protect the Titan. Draw in the enemy. Collapse the webway. Clangs of metal against bone and warpsteel echoed, the electric scream of guardian spears cleaving through armor and flesh effortlessly reaching even the command deck. He closed on eye in response to an explosion of warpfire against the deck, bathing his vision in a vicious purple-green, the flames dying out in the shape of howling skulls and screaming mouths.

He waited. He watched. The lights above flickered, as the titan continued to thrum to life, a mechanical pounding growing faster and faster under his feet. It permeated through the machine, through his very armor, filling him with the heartbeat of a living God Machine. He almost laughed at the irony of the situation, bringing a God Machine to life, only to destroy it in defiance of other, more misanthropic gods.

He felt a small stir of pride within his breast as his brethren slaughtered, murdered, and destroyed their foes. Like graceful predators, batting aside a tidal wave of enemies.

But it wouldn't last.

As quickly as the enemy was pushed back, so did they resurge forward.

Young Alintrus - only one hundred years old. Without another arm, he was off-balance, and no amount of training or practice could ever prepare you for that save the cold experience of the battlefield. With sweeps of his blade, he dragged his momentum through the hordes of foes before him, hungering for his flawless flesh and his pure soul. His momentum failed him as two slavering, blood-red demons fell upon him, one holding his blade locked with its own, while the other cleaved him in twain.

" _Fusion. Core. 80%. capacity._ " The grumbling, choppy tech-speech burbled to life from a vox-grill, washing over him with gravelly, unfeeling, uncaring static.

The green rune above Alintrus's name wavered, before blinking into red - and winking out of existence.

He could only grimace.

 _"Fusion. Core. 90%. capacity."_

Telemasien, the ever stalwart defender, battered away countless of enemies with his storm shield, the enormous golden bulwark chipped and cracked. His sentinel blade screamed vengeance, as dozens of demons fell to his blade. Yet from behind, an explosion of warpfire and dying souls sending him stumbling forward, a gaping hole burned into his left shoulder, where his armor had taken repeated strikes before. It only took a few more strikes before he fell over, sentinel blade swinging, as a mound of dead and dying bodies covered his prone form.

 _Ave Imperator, Telemasien. Be at Peace._

Another mocking red star faded from existence.

Reaching out, his hands flicked at two switches, the metallic triggers groaning under the force of his hands. Shifting over to grip a handle, he pushed it up, as the vibrations within the titan grew larger and larger. Cables and piping rattled, electric sparks flew, as he turned his gaze to his last remaining brother where he stood.

 _"Fusion. Core. 100%. capacity. Hull. has. been. breached."_

Calyptos was a whirlwind of death. Every swing of his blade ended the ephemeral existence of a handful of demons, until a green wave of witchery overtook him. Thrown back, Calyptos could do little to stop twenty seven tendrils of putrefying flesh ripping through his now rusted, corroded, and dampened armor. Gold faded to dull brown, the priceless auramite sloughed in a horrid parody of its previous form. A sloshing liquid escaped through the gaps of his malignant, corrupted warplate, as Calyptos fell to his knees and melted into a hissing pool of viscous innards and flesh.

He didn't even see his biosignature rune extinguish.

 _"Fusion. Core. 110% capacity. Warning : Overload. imminent."_

He closed his eyes, his grip upon the lever tightening. He could hear the ceramite-titanium mechanism groaning strength that could tear a demon in two. Explosions rocked the titan, groaning metal and screeching claws against steel almost drowning out the rattling beneath him. The thrum of energy grew violent.

 _"Fusion. Core. 125%. capacity. Overloading. Overloading. Overloading. Overloading. Over…"_

He ignored the droning voice - he could barely even register it now. The faceplate of the war machine exploded in a shower of metal and glass, as he opened his eyes. He could only smile at the sight of these most hated invaders. He opened his mouth to speak, ready to utter one final curse upon these enemies that he doomed alongside himself. Victory was assured. He could almost laugh, as he watched a fanged maw open to crush his skull in its grasp when -

Everything was white.

_

 **Another Existence**

 **RME 072 - Mount Ararat - EvoCorp Research Facility**

"We have to make it to the research bay before it's too late. It's only a matter of time before they fix the feedback loop and notice the missing patrol!"

Yasuo grimaced, pausing momentarily in his dash to gaze at the ruined bodies of three enforcer platforms that they had the misfortune of running into. This mission was going more and more south by the second. "You really don't have to remind me, Katarina," he grumbled under his breath. "Are you sure you know where you're going?"

The white-haired project behind him almost snorted in disdain, between her slightly labored breaths. " 'Course I know where I'm going, I was stuck in his damn mountain for a whole year and a half, while you and those clowns were trying to hunt down Zed," she shot back. She came just ahead of him, raising a hand and gesturing with her arm to the right - the two made a sharp turn and continued down, their armored boots clanking lightly against the plated flooring. Above them, exposed pipework hissed and puffed smoke and vapors, lights only hanging from junctures; this was obviously not a place meant for humans to come.

But they weren't human - at least, not entirely. Yasuo glanced at the upper left of his visor, where his onboard system was mapping out the structure as they traveled, each step revealing more and more of the research station's seemingly random interior construction. He shook his head, raising a hand the moment he felt something… off.

"What, Yasuo!? We're almost there, stop being... So… " Katarina's voice died off as she began to feel it too.

Yasuo reached for his sheathed blade. Even though he could tell there was no immediate threat, all around him, the oppressive aura of malevolent energy seemed to manifest, weighing down on his shoulders… or was that his skull? He couldn't tell anymore. His stomach curled and did a little flip, making him widen his stance to steady himself. His heart rate was increasing. His gauntlet was beginning to become sweaty - which was fixed with a thought, and the moisture was sucked away by his suit.

"...They've already begun. We need to go - now," he finished with a hoarse voice, clearing his throat just as they began to sprint down the hallway.

The ground rumbled, the lights flickered. A thin layer of dust shook from the ceiling, neatly depositing upon the two sprinting Projects.

A few turns later, and the two arrived at their destination. They entered a massive rectangular enclosure, skidding to a halt before a massive door. From the thin cracks between those massive, metallic panels, an eerie pinkish-purple light radiated, burgeoning and wavering with every passing seconds. The shaking was deafening now, the door panels visibly quaking as Yasuo couldn't help but grimace in pain, his head throbbing from the oppressive aura that seemed to hover over them like a vengeful spirit.

The light grew stronger, more violent, like a whip cracking against flesh the tendrils of its presence lashed against the ground. The thrumming grew louder and louder, until it was a howling gale screeching against the metal laboratory. Yasuo stumbled forward, struggling to place one foot in front of the other. It was like fighting a storm, energy buffeting off of him like pink flames against his faceplate. Yet he finally made his way to the door terminal. As Katarina rested at the other side of the opening, waiting to breach, Yasuo raised a hand to try and bypass the door. A high-pitched whistle dully echoed through the door, as the thrumming energy grew to its most violent until -

Silence. The power in the facility died almost immediately, the previously healthy lighting being replaced by thrumming red emergency lights. Yasuo raised his hand in shock, momentarily delayed, when the sounds of whirring weaponry and electric screeching echoed through the lab before them. He could hear the sounds of a rotary plasma cannon being activated - being fired, even, as sizzling red motes of the door wetly splattered on the ground. He grimaced. Would it be best to wait? He gazed to Katarina, who gestured for them to stand down.

That was something he could agree to - but what was it that was causing this commotion? Could it be a new void creature summoned? Surely it had to be more powerful than any other before; nothing could withstand the full might of a few plasma cannons. That was when he heard a loud clang! of metal slamming into the door. It screeched in protest, the twin openings caving out towards the two projects, the center dented and folded out like a piece of aluminum sheet foil.

Only then did he realize that there was no more gunfire - only the sound of metal cutting through metal, one that he could easily recognize. He eyed the door terminal - doubting that it could now open a door that was bent out like a plastic bottle being crushed. Another slam of the door made that dent cave in even more, larger, as the bend grew to encompass the entire height of the panels.

Suddenly, white-blue lines screamed into existence upon the panel, the rectangle it formed exploding outwards and limply bouncing along the corridor through which they once came. Yasuo swallowed, the hand on his sheathed blade nervously palming the familiar tool. Metallic boots clanged against the flooring, as a figure in ornately carved armor exited, its red-lensed helm gazing directly at him.

Only then did he realize the white-blue blade pointed directly at his chest, held in one hand by the figure. The blade hissed with energy, spitting out sparks and crackles of lightning, dancing along the glowing, gleaming weapon.

"Date and planet, citizen," came a deep, gravelly voice, accompanied by a metallic grinding tone.

He could only pause. "Uh. 72 ME - modern era. You're on the planet of Runeterra," he began, glad that this… person? Was capable of conversation. That was a start. Maybe he could spin this in a good way? Start out nice - who knows what might happen.

"My name is Yasuo. Me and Katarina over there -" he couldn't see Katarina, his vision entirely blotted out by the armored giant before him, so settled for a simple gesture in her direction - "are members of the human resistance. You're in a research facility deep in a mountain, dedicated to researching interdimensional travel." The giant's helm tassel shook as he seemed to shift his head to the side, as if acknowledging Katarina. The blade was no longer pointing at him, instead returning to stand at the giant's side.

Yasuo let out a sigh of relief.

"More importantly, who the hell are you, and what kinda armor are you wearing?" Katarina's disdainful - yet clearly shaky - voice pealed out from behind the giant.

The giant seemed to mull over his thoughts, until a hand reached up to meet his helm. It disengaged with a metallic clasp and a hiss, before being peeled off to reveal a surprisingly human - if not pale - face beneath.

He stared down at Yasuo, and then at Katarina, the 9-foot tall giant of a man wearing upon his face a look of tired, silent determination.

A chiseled jaw. Vigilant, knowing eyes set by patrician cheeks and full eyebrows. His head was shaved clean, with four metallic studs lining his right eye. Scars criss crossed his cheek and mouth.

"You may call me Kyphan."

 **AN : So yeah, this is a thing. There are 2 Warhammer references within the second portion of this chapter. Find them and you get the honor of dying honorably for the Emperor, much like our Custodian heroes.**


	3. Chapter 2 : Inexorable Advance

**In Golden Light**

 **Welcome to the second chapter of this god-forsaken thing of mine. Can't say I spend much time proofreading, and after I read the first chapter I realized I really need to read my own work another time over, yikes. I'll try to do that from now on or whatever.**

 **Also, as far as I'm aware - Custodians don't really have a method of displaying years of service save for names carved into their armor. That's a tad boring, so I figured I might as well have something tried and true. After all, a giant hulk of a man in golden armor with metallic studs lining his eyebrow isobjectivelyspookier than one without.**

 **With that, let's get into the next chapter. Review for things that you like, or things that you don't. Or something like that.**

 **Chapter 2 : Inexorable Advance**

"So you're human."

"Yes. Mostly."

"Like - _how_ mostly? Are you... part animal somewhere? Machine?"

"No, and no. I was once fully human, but I've transcended what you would define as human."

"...Huh."

Kyphan furrowed his brow. He grew somewhat tired of the questioning, though he figured that remaining silent would do him no good here. Despite being a member of the silent ten thousand, Kyphan knew the importance that normal, unmodified humans represented; that even without armor and genecrafting, humans were still capable of greatness.

That, he supposed, and it was rather refreshing to have someone new to talk to. Someone that wasn't one of his brothers, nor one of the many mindless sycophants that resided within the Imperium. This one in particular - Ekko, as he was introduced, was a curious, intelligent, and rather clever young man. The mechanicus would surely be interested in him and his inventions... though whether he came to survive their 'questioning,' he wasn't sure. It reminded him of the time he spent debating his brothers on philosophy and reason.

...His brothers. Kyphan could only clench his fist tightly in remembrance of his fallen brethren. If it was any solace, he carried with him their eleven names. All of which, he supposed, he could etch into his armor when he had the chance. That was the least he could do for them, especially now, until the Imperium found this world and reclaimed it. _If_ they found it.

"Hey. Yoo-hoo. You okay back there?" came the voice again. Kyphan had taken only a fraction of his attention away to reflect for a moment, tilting his helm and replying.

"Yes," was his taciturn reply, his voice grating out from his vox. The man named Yasuo seemed to be fast asleep to his left, unperturbed by the gentle rumbling of their vehicle. The grav-carrier had picked them up as they exited the mountain. It reminded him of the Emperor's own gene labs, buried deep beneath a range of stone spires, though the ones upon Earth were much larger than these.

"So, where are you from really? Like - you're clearly not from around here and all. Maybe an alternate dimension, somehow transported here by some freak accident. Or maybe, whatever happened in your world was also some sort of freak accident, tearing the continuum and causing you to disappear from there, come here, I guess, you know?" Ekko offered as he steered the vehicle.

He glanced outside from Yasuo's window - as Katarina to his right seemed more than happy to stare out the window and never look in his direction, only sparing a few glances of suspicion and worry at his expense. He watched as they passed through the dark scrapyard that'd surrounded them for some time, as they traversed the underbelly of what appeared to be a sprawling, neon lit city above.

"...Yes, I suppose that might be it," he began. He was not sure if this world knew of psychic powers, and thus of the Warp. Was it safe to assume that they did? He couldn't say for certain. "I come from Earth, homeworld of Humanity and the cradle of Mankind."

That got Ekko's attention - and Katarina's, who jerked her head to stare at him in curiosity, before blinking and raising an eyebrow, as if waiting for him to continue. Ekko as well remained silent.He had to proceed carefully. "We reside within the Sol system, in one of the many arms of the vast Milky Way Galaxy. Our Imperium is one that encompasses hundreds of thousands of worlds, and trillions of citizens. At the focal point of it all is the Emperor of Mankind, an immortal being of immense power who has tirelessly guided Humanity to retake dominance over the stars for the last two thousand years... and my Creator."

Katarina's jaw dipped as if to speak, before quickly closing itself. The cabin was silent as he paused to let his words sink in.

"I am one of the Legio Custodes, a legion of ten thousand dedicated to the protection of the homeworld and more importantly, to the Master of Mankind. Every single Custodian is a warrior without peer, and have been standing behind our Lord for hundreds, if not thousands of years. I myself was approaching four hundred and sixty two years of service," he finished simply.

Katarina's eyes widened. "How - you're that old?! How? That's _literally_ impossible. No human should be able to live that long!"

Kyphan could only smile under his helmet. "Again. I am no mere man, just as you are not fully human. From the age of three, I was graciously selected to possibly join the ranks of my brethren. From there, the Emperor and his gene-wrights crafted me into the being I am today," he carefully explained, not willing to explain much further than that.

"Sounds like total unnecessary amounts of everything," Katarina grumbled, to which Kyphan could only offer a bitter chuckle.

"Face the insanity of the galaxy, and perhaps you will see the necessity of everything."

As he finished that last sentence, a quiet ping sounded out from the front console, as Ekko shifted a hand over to immediately answer it. The screen sparked to life, and a white-haired, blue eyed woman's face appeared on it. "Go for Red Team."

"Ekko, I take it that the gold giant in the passenger cabin is our visitor Yasuo talked about," came her tired yet firm voice.

"You got it Chief. Kinda slowing us down with all the weight, going to have to retool the engine if we're going to support him in the future. What's going on?"

"Intel-6's spotted Overseer patrols passing north - northwest of the Scrapyard. Lay low for a little bit, I think they're looking for the lab invaders," she said somewhat pointedly.

"...Or they're looking for the escaped results of the experiment that kinda-sorta tore apart barricaded neosteel doors like cardboard and took a volley of plasma without giving a shit," came Yasuo's lethargic, gravelly voice. He stretched himself out, yawning silently.

"...Good to see you've finally decided to join the world of the living, Yasuo," came Katarina's snarky reply, to which he flipped her the bird.

"Regardless," came the woman's tired, frustrated voice, "just take a knee in the scraps for a second. We _cannot_ afford for them to track us. If you get spotted, standard procedures," she finished.

"You got it Chief. Red team out." With that, Ekko thumbed an activation rune, and the screen blinked out. Ekko steered them downwards, the lithe hover vehicle lowering itself in altitude while continuing forward. They passed by heaps and mounds of discarded machinery and scrap metal, along with a copious amount of trash. Finding a clearing, Ekko slowly lowered the vehicle, the slight whirring of extending landing gear ending with a gentle thump as they made contact with the ground.

Kyphan remained completely still, guardian spear lay across his lap as he stared out of the window. The heaps of scrap metal and trash were dark, with only the slightest traces of neon light emanating from the floating metropolis high above. Mounds of garbage were broken apart by barren scraps of dirt and rock in some places, while others were covered in a thin layer of waste.

"On these Battlecasts. Who created such abominable intelligences?" he questioned, to which Katarina couldn't help but chuckle.

"Battlecasts are just the model names of specific machines created by the Creator to - well, dominate the world, I guess. They were originally supposed to defend and protect humans against the Void, but... you can kinda see where the world is that this point," she shrugged." Not surprised, really. What else can you really expect from anyone in control of an army of machines?"

"Not to mention, they're capable of exponential machine learning, and have incredibly modular base platform. It's fascinating actually, how standard construct automation allows for such ridiculous modification on the fly to adapt to any situation!" came Ekko's enthusiastic chime.

"Can it, nerd," came Katarina's huff, as she lightly stamped her foot into the ground. "But he's right. Those things are pretty frickin' good at learning. All of them are connected to a local automation reactor which controls a small portion of platforms, and every single reactor can communicate and relay design changes or whatever amongst themselves. If the resistance somehow manages to get a big supply of anti-armor rounds, you'll be sure as hell to see plasma shielding or energy conversion shields more prevalent instead of heavy armor plates."

"Come to think of it, your... halberd. Polearm? Glaive?" Yasuo seemed to lean forward, now somewhat intrigued by the weapon, whose blade lay just a few inches away from him. "It goes all... sparky and blue. How's that work - and the barrel running along the blade, what's that for?"

Kyphan took a second to respond, reaching out almost reverently and laying his armored hand upon the weapon. "This blade has been at my side for four hundred years. It is what the Imperium calls a Guardian Spear - though yes, I must agree that Spear is somewhat of a misnomer," he notes with a slight chuckle. "This blade is what is known as a power weapon, which is somewhat of a loose term used to describe some form of melee weaponry that has a field of energy, capable of severing molecular bonds. It's an incredibly potent weapon that generally cannot be stopped, save for that of another power field."

His hand goes to the barrel, resting between twin golden eagles. "This is known as an adrasite spear, more commonly known as an adrathic destructor. This... is rather dangerous technology, capable of - well, to put it simply, we can refer to it as a disintegration beam. Though it is not only incredibly difficult to use, but can only be used so much before overheating."

He looked up, only to see Ekko turned around in his seat, staring at the weapon... and realized both Katarina and Yasuo were doing the same.

At some point, the silence was broken when Katarina just sighed. "Alright, I just... you know, I don't really want to know what the hell you gotta kill to use this sort of stuff. Like, angry space robot zombies, I bet."

"Or maybe a hive mind of galaxy-spanning evolutionary beasts!" Ekko chimed in.

"Or you know, maybe a whole tank or something," Yasuo grumbled. "It's like you're built to punch out an artillery division. What about your armor?"

"Each set of Custodian armor is master-crafted, specially tailored to each warrior. These gems," he pointed to the gleaming blue sapphire at his chest, and the few upon his left shoulder pauldron," were mined and tirelessly hand-cut by artisans whose names go unremembered, past from time immemorial. The material is as carefully crafted as mine own genetic code," he simply stated.

Yasuo gestured to his right shoulder guard, with the imperial aquila emblazoned in gold against the pauldron. "What's that symbol?"

Kyphan didn't need to look to see what he was gesturing to. "The Palatine Aquila, an ancient symbol of the Imperium of Man. It represents the tireless vigilance of Mankind, and the two-fold path of Terra and Mars. The blind eyes represent our past, our history... and our failures," his voice took on a tinge of sorrow, and his fellow passengers could not help but fall quiet, ears keenly carrying on his every word.

"The eyes looking onward represents the great potential in man - in woman and child. In the servant and in the noble. It represents our hope and our will, and the galactic birthright which we strove to claim... no matter the cost." He closed his eyes behind his helm in shame, slowly shaking his head. "Yet despite the righteousness of our cause, despite the certainty with which we pursued the grand dream for humanity, we strove too far, tearing apart the vision of the future like starving wolves upon a fresh kill... and fell into the chasm of our own making."

"Perhaps it will be different here. Perhaps it will not. All I know is that I have a duty to greater humanity." His hand slowly rested upon the haft of the weapon upon his lap, and Kyphan sat silently.

There was nothing but the gentle thrum of the engine for a few moments, before Yasuo cleared his throat and nodded. "So.. The Emperor. Who is he? He sounds really, really important, I'm assuming."

There was little Kyphan could do but shudder at the glory and grandeur of his Lord. Even the image of his Father passing through his mind drew a smile upon his lips... only for them to curl into a melancholy frown.

"He is simply as I have called Him. The Emperor. The Master of Mankind. Even to me, his own creation, I know not of his exact origins; nobody truly does. Since Mankind were little more than tribal kinsmen throwing spears and sharpening rocks, the Emperor has watched over humanity, guiding us to glory and safeguarding from the malevolence of the galaxy."

"He is the most psychically powerful being to exist within the universe, both an unmatched warrior and a peerless scholar. It was by his genius that individuals such as I were forged, taken from our mortal lives and reborn anew to serve greater Humanity, and ultimately, the Emperor himself."

"And he was.. human? You sound like you're describing a God you worship or something," came Katarina's confused voice. "And you said psychic. Like, magic? A mage of sorts?"

"Again. Am I human? Are you? No, and yes. I am human in mind, spirit, and soul, but I am no mere man. Just as you are not fully human, you are ultimately an embodiment of humanity. My Emperor is much more than a simple human being blessed with psychic capabilities, but to call him a god would be against the very tenets of the Imperial truth. That no gods exist, and that religion and superstitious weakness will fall before the infallible truth of science and progress. It is easy to confuse him for a god, but no - He himself described it as being a few steps ahead in the evolutionary curve," he finished with an almost amused tone.

"As for your second question... Magic is another, older word for the psychically capable, yes. I suppose you here also have psykers..." he paused. "Tell me, have there been... otherworldly invaders randomly springing forth in your world? Mostly around the presence of these... mages?" he queried suspiciously.

"Around mages? No, not really. There's something called the Void, though. It's this apparently alternate dimension filled with aliens and pretty nasty stuff that really wants to eat us and claim this dimension as their own," Yasuo replied casually. "They're pretty under control, though. The Battlecasts were originally designed to combat void creatures and contain the rifts. As far as I'm aware, it's impossible to do the latter, but they're damn good at the first." He paused. "Well, anything with a brain can kill stuff from the Void. Just a swarm of oversized bugs and stuff."

Kyphan closed his eyes in relief. "Fair enough." At least there were no daemons here.

"Anyways," Ekko interrupted. "What were you doing before you came here?"

"I was repelling an invasion in an alternate dimension. The dimension's physical boundaries were disrupted by a nuclear fusion core overloading and detonating," he replied simply. "I expected death. Instead..."

 **Mount Ararat**

 **Void Field Experiment CL-46 Site**

The first thing that returned was his hearing. Wailing warning klaxons blared, his helm restraining and focusing the sound. It took only a few seconds for him to realize that he was standing as well, realizing he was in the same position as he was in just before the Titan core erupted in an all-devouring white star.

His sight finally returned shortly after, his temporary blindness quickly fading thanks to his Emperor-forged eyes. The brightness that would have burnt a lesser man's eyes to little more than a milky husk was a mere inconvenience to the Custodian - though even the four seconds he lost to blindness was unacceptable. All around him was a thick swirl of heavy smoke and ash, though his helm saw past it all.

One second.

He pursed his lips. He was in a cage - a teleportation chamber? Had the Emperor saved him? Around him was a box of metal and glass, shaped in some form of dodecahedron. And standing at the ready just past them were a number of metallic figures, without a single bio-signature in the room.

Two seconds.

He palmed the activation rune upon his adrasite spear, the blade hissing to life in a violent gash of electric sparking and spitting. Almost immediately, he heard the sounds of weapons whirring to life, heat chambers warming up and shells being cycled. Adrenaline pumped, as one of the Emperor's finest watched everything slow down.

Danger.

His free arm shot out to grip his spear, and carrying this momentum he spun around. Lashing at the cage holding him, his blade screamed its way through the glass and neosteel, indiscriminatein its fury. He dragged his weapon downwards, following its momentum to cut out a huge diagonal line of molten glass and metal.

Three seconds.

Two upright, vaguely humanoid figures had one arm each raised towards him, their machine cogitators no doubt locking onto him as he thought. Studying the rotary heat signatures rapidly spinning at their right arms, he supposed it was some sort of rapid suppression weapon. He lowered his spear into a shooting stance, raising a foot to slam into the loose cage panel, sending it hurtling towards the figures with a swoosh of motion.

They opened fire through the smoke, bolts of dark-purple energy cutting through the dust, a volley of energy aimed directly at him. Though the panel took the brunt of the fire, rendering his temporary shield as little more than a molten, white-hot puddle on the ground, scraps of spared material screeching against the ground.

He thumbed the firing rune upon his spear twice. Twin howls of white-hot energy burst their way from the adrathic barrel, perfect marksmanship sending them into the unexpecting figures' chests. Instantly, the bolt of disintegration reacted upon impact, causing a hideous sound of metal screeching and boiling, the reaction extending outwards into the automatons' chests. It took only moment before a violent explosion consumed their torsos, erasing a sizable portion of their forms to dust.

Four seconds.

Behind him, the roar of an engine prompted him to turn around, ready to face his new foe. What was before him seemed to be a machine upon multiple metallic legs, jutting from its torso. It had within one arm a massive metallic claw, and in the other, a set of electric tendrils clattering fiercely to life. Upon its shoulders it had twin sets of missile pods, though it seemed more intent upon attempting to capture him first.

Five seconds.

The tendrils fired with explosive force, flying towards him like four javelins. He slipped into a lower stance, spinning his blade back before launching it upwards, while leaning back to dodge every single one of them. He cut each tendril, the metallic heads clattering uselessly upon the door, and with his other hand reached out to grip the bundle of wires, twisting it once around his wrist to ensure he had a secure grasp.

He pulled. _Hard_. The abominable construct groaned in protest, shuddering under the force of his pull as it attempted to drag the wires back into their sockets. Kyphan refused to budge, his boots digging small craters into the chamber floor. As if lifted by the hands of giants, the bulbous machine rose, as Kyphan used all of the strength the armor provided as well as his own already prodigious prowess to throw the automaton.

He swung it across the chamber, lifting it up from the ground and sending it barreling towards the twin panels in front of which the two scrap heaps now rested. The thing collided with the door with a huge metallic _clang_ , denting the opening outwards as the robot was left struggling to set itself upright. His target disabled, Kyphan simply walked forwards to make his way up to the machine.

Six seconds.

He took a second to study it while it seemed to struggle. The machine was large, at least 10 feet tall and half that across, the head resting upon the round form fashioned in the shape of a human skull. He felt his lips rise in disgust at the poor imitation the perfect human form. As the creature sputtered and protested from its injuries, Kyphan lifted his spear and swung twice through the machine's body, cleaving it from one corner to the other, before stabbing into the center and twisting once, making the machine fall apart in four clean pieces, sparking and sputtering smoke as it died.

Seven seconds.

He took a breath - and time seemed to return to normal. No more enemies. No more threats. He took a few more seconds to stare around at the chamber in curiosity - but soon decided that time was of the essence. Glancing at the door that was now blocked off by a heap of metal, he took a few steps to the side to cut out a door for himself, kicking the molten panel away to step through.

And was greeted by two humans.

 **AN : So yeah, new chapter. Can't seem to properly save formatting which is really annoying, but oh well. Enjoy, review, whatever you'd like.**


	4. Chapter 3 : Inexorable Purpose

Chapter 3 : Inexorable Purpose

 **In Another Existence**

 _From upon the Golden Throne, the Emperor turned his gaze away from Terra. He closed His eyes, spirit soaring across the sea of stars. Malevolent darkness lurked in every corner, waiting to swallow up the light that He projected, as He seared His golden radiance all across the stars._

 _But there was just the slightest of a hole in the very fabric of reality. Even its nigh nonexistent light pierced through the muddied miasma of chaos and taint, a glittering gem surrounded by unforgiving stone._

 _He turned His gaze to it, willing His mind forward. He watched as this minuscule, ephemeral tear shuddered and gasped, a proud golden soul accompanied by three fading ones, winking in and out of existence. Sorrow clutched His chest as he watched, following as the last remaining light vanished from existence._

 _He furrowed His brow and came closer, searching for that tear - watching, hoping._

 _He found it there. He found it bleeding into a new universe with gentle, warm light, where the darkness was cold and comforting. He found it peaceful, hopeful, where the madness of the stars could not take hold._

 _He watched as the tear closed now and forever, taking with it one Golden son, the last vestiges of the familiar blazing light snuffed out, as darkness once again melded together to hide His son from his gaze._

 _Nothing._

 _He opened his eyes._

"My Lord?" came Malcador's aged, hoarse, yet firm voice.

A single, golden tear of ambrosia fell.

"So you played hula-hoop with a Vanguard and used it to break the door," Yasuo sighed, rubbing the stubble on his chin with a half-perplexed, half-amused look on his face. Katarina simply rolled her eyes and groaned.

"You're getting crazier the more we talk to you. It's like we're dealing with - I dunno, a **super** super soldier," she huffed.

"You also must realize that your civilization is tens of thousands of years younger than mine," he replied patiently - though he did little to hide his own amusement. "I suppose being much older than many of your forefathers helps t-"

 _Movement. Southwest - eighty meters out._

He tensed, gripping the haft of his blade and quickly snapping his gaze over to the left. He narrowed his eyes, willing the lenses of his helm to zoom and focus, where he could make out the shifting of three, hazy figures.

"Contact, southwest. 76 meters out, closing," he grunted, to which Katarina let out a small noise of excitement akin to a snarling chuckle, while Yasuo sighed.

"I don't have anything on the radar, they must be Shades. Opening hatch doors. Let's keep this baby clean, just replaced her hull two weeks ago," Ekko called, pressing a few buttons. The sides of the vehicle peeled away, layer upon layer of metal stripping back and folding off to allow the passengers to leave. The vehicle gave an audible creak as Kyphan rolled out, his boots landing on the ground with a solid thump. He kicked up a dust cloud, as he shifted to glance at Yasuo to his left, who exited first.

Kyphan twirled his blade in his hands, his heart beginning to pump just a tad faster. He watched as Katarina came at their flank, and Ekko jumped out of the vehicle.

"They know we're here, no doubt they're calling for backup. Let's make this clean, and get home nice and safe Tea-"

 ** _Woosh-Fwoom!_** The whistling of an incoming explosion ended with a crack of explosive force, stabbing from above down into the vehicle they had just disembarked from. Ekko immediately threw up a bubble of green hexagonal shields, hovering over them all for a brief moment as debris and flames burst out.

"God fucking damn it!" Ekko cursed.

"They got an Erebus platform somewhere! Bet they're wanting to get back their golden experiment," Katarina shouted out as the bubble faded away, a flaming wreck behind them illuminating the small area, surrounded by pillars of garbage. The three Projects scrambled for cover, Yasuo diving behind a large disposed washing machine, Katarina blinking away to somewhere behind and above Kyphan. Ekko seemed to duck behind the burning husk of the vehicle.

"No way that was an Erebus, we got to figure out the source now! The SCARs operate on a Capture protocol for all Projects, it's probably Jh-"

 ** _Woosh-!_** Remaining silent, Kyphan heard the crack of the projectile ring out towards him. Within milliseconds, he widened his stance and gripped his blade tighter. Twirling it forward and in front of him, he thumbed the activation rune just as the bolt of burning red-purple energy was about to collide with him and deflected it, the scream of white-blue energy exploding out from his weapon sending the projectile hurtling off into the distance. A plume of fire and heat radiated off of the trash heap that it had collided with, as debris rained around them.

Slinking out of the shadows came twin forms in perfect unison, mirroring one another. He watched as glowing red armblades slid out from atop their forearms. He fell silent as he watched the two, red-black constructs, skulls acid-etched into their helms, mechanical chittering warbling from their forms.

He smiled.

"Yasuo, I'll handle our pretty little sniper. You boys fight off these ugly sons of bitches and we'll meet back in 5," Katarina's voice crackled in Yasuo's earpiece. He confusedly grunted an affirmative as the long-range bombardment ended, having no time to process what just happened. He gripped his blade, the plasma edged weapon thrumming with energy. He felt a twinge of danger behind him, and spun around while drawing his sword.

He cast from the sword's edge a web of plasma, capturing an incinerating the neo-steel shuriken that was hurtling towards him. He narrowed his eyes, gripping his weapon with one hand more soundly while sizing up his opponent.

The Shade stared at him for a second, cocking its skull as if it were thinking. With a warbled bleep of noise, it threw its arm out to the side, projecting a red-black hardlight construct of itself. He cocked his lips in a grin, leaning down and dashing forward at his foe. The Shade threw another pair of shurikens, one hardlight and another neosteel. He let his armor take one, a white glow of energy shielding deflecting one while he ducked under the second. He lashed out with his blade, only for the Shade to swap places with its shadow construct in a dark burst of energy.

Now standing at his flank, the Shade jut its arms forward together, aiming at his chest. Yasuo shifted backwards, gripping his blade with two hands to swing upwards to deflect the twin armblades. He was met with another set of vicious swipes with those claws, as Yasuo held his blade firm. Twisting the weapon so that edge of the blade caught between the twin teeth of the shade's weapons, Yasuo grinned. It still seemed to work - easy prey for him.

Suddenly he watched as the machine's faceplate clicked and pulled away to reveal a vicious-looking tether, his eyes widening in horror.

He didn't trap the machine. It had trapped him.

He tried to free his weapon as the javelin shot through his shoulder, piercing through his shielding and digging into his flesh. He howled in pain, only to be silenced when electric fury burned through his veins. His vision blurred and twisted, feeling his limbs clench and lock up in agony. He arched his back, letting out a piercing yell of shock, his body no longer obeying his commands.

Centuries of experience made this battle less than trivial for Kyphan. Their weapons, while most definitely lethal on an unaugmented human, did little more than leave temporary scratches against his warplate - if they could get past his impeccable defense.

These machines, Kyphan realized, were working in perfect harmony with each other. It took little effort to deflect the attempts of the pair of machines to breach his defenses. He took his time, allowing them to strike at him over and over to come to understand their method and style.

Blows aiming for his joints and limbs told him they were attempting to disable him. Shurikens at his weapons told him they were trying to see his guardian spear's limits. Their short-range teleportation reminded him of the Aeldari, though they were naught but fractions of the detestable alien's dexterity and grace.

Ten seconds had passed, and Kyphan had become a flurry of defensive spins and deflects. Suspecting their next attacks, Kyphan moved to counter. With a sweep of his blade, he pushed back both the right and left constructs just as they attacked from his front and back as he had predicted, spinning the staff to deliver a devastating blow to the head with the butt of his spear to one construct, its head reduced to a dented, broken mess. He immediately followed it by carrying his momentum backwards, stabbing into where he deduced the construct would warp to next.

He was right.

His spear screamed as it pierced metal, cutting a burning, smoking wound into the chest of the Shade. It let out a few electric noises, its head and limbs jittering and twitching violently. Twisting his blade, he locked the Shade in place as he swung the weapon over his head, Shade still attached, to crash down upon the other wounded machine.

Quickly pulling his weapon free, He aimed directly at the piled Shades, smoking and sparking, before pulling the trigger. A burst of energy was accompanied by a howl of destruction.

He didn't even watch to see their torsos vaporize into nothingness, turning away when victory was assured.

Yasuo's cry of agony alerted him, locking his gaze to where he saw Yasuo on his knees, body twitching. He clearly saw the machine's tether stabbed through his shoulder. It took him half a second to frown and lower his staff- he could not take that shot without potentially vaporizing the swordsman from existence. Kyphan pursed his lips and broke into a full on sprint...

Only for Katarina to blink behind the shade with a static buzz and sever its head from its body, her vibrant-purple blades burning through metal. She twirled the vicious-looking dagger free of oils and metal scraps, before sheathing it. She reached out, gripping the head of the tether and yanked it out, eliciting a gasp of agony from the now conscious Swordsman.

"Can't even take out a shade by yourself, old man? And here I thought you two would do just fine without me," Katarina mocked, as she reached out to take Yasuo's outstretched hand. She pulled him up, and Yasuo gripped his shoulder with a grimace. Sparks and wires were now freely shown between his fingers, gripping the wound.

"Fucker had an electric tether hidden in his face," he grumbled. "Guess we can tack that onto the newest Shade version they're making," he sighed.

Kyphan made his way up the sloped trash heap, metal crunching under his boots with each step. He gazed silently at the pair for a moment, before tilting his head. "Are you alright, Yasuo?" he queried.

Yasuo let out an aggravated grunt. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine. At least it wasn't like - a few inches over. Then it'd hit meat and that'd hurt like a bitch, not to mention take way longer to heal," he conceded. "Did you take care of that fucker?"

Katarina shook his head. "Just about took apart his arms, but the bitch had a stun grenade array waiting for me. Ran off before I could finish the job," she growled, twirling one of her daggers. "As crazy as that bastard is, he's really good at running away."

The three of them turned and began walking down the slope, as Kyphan questioned, "Who was the sniper? Was it a Battlecast?"

Katarina shook her head. "No, that's a rogue Project, like the rest of us. His name is Jhin, and he was unplugged around the same time as me, a few months later I think. Unlike us, though, he decided to continue working for the Creator. Crazy bastard is psychopathic beyond measure... but he's the best sniper Runeterra's seen in a long time."

Kyphan frowned. "The Synapse?" he repeated.

Ekko chimed in as they made their way to the center of the clearing. "The Synapse is a simple way of describing the synaptic neural webway that connected all Projects to the main hub. Essentially, each Project is an individual that is bound to the synapse's rules and code. This allows Projects to retain some amount of personality and individualism while ensuring their absolute loyalty to the Creator and his orders. The synapse is-"

"Yeah yeah, we get it Ekko," Katarina impatiently interjected, waving her hand," he doesn't want the whole nerd explanation."

"Actually," Kyphan patiently replied. "I have to admit that this topic is rather intriguing. Do continue, Ekko, if you wouldn't mind."

Yasuo snorted, eliciting a punch from Katarina, followed by a small 'that hurt!' from the injured man. Ekko simply grinned and continued.

"Aaanyways. The Synapse is also a datastream that allows both memories, knowledge, and directive to be both sent and received from various Projects on the field. All Projects are almost constantly in contact with one another to ensure maximum efficiency and security, though once a Project is unplugged from the Synapse, all of that changes.

"That's what a rogue Project is - just someone unhooked from the System. We all are rogue Projects, and once we were unplugged, the directives that repressed and subdued most of our own personalities and thoughts quickly died out now that they were no longer reinforced by the system. It was pretty much inevitable that we realized that we were just basically slaves to the system, or oppressors of our own people, or... you get the point." He shrugged. "Some rogues didn't really care about all of that, though. They just wanted to kill, or... hunt, or whatever. Like Jhin."

He paused. "It's our goal to free all the Projects from the Synapse first - and then eventually, free the people from the Creator's grasp. Nobody is truly free, ya see. Everyone's got chips, propaganda, controllers, inhibitors... If you're not living for yourself, are you even alive?"

He frowned. "Which goes to another topic. We actually aren't in our original bodies - all of us are, in actuality, seventy to a hundred years old - or at least, something around that. These are just bodies that are designed to best fit the bodies that our original personalities, memories, skills. and whatever were like upon being recorded, duplicated, and captured. So - are we even ourselves? Me and Master Yi had this debate for a-"

"Ekko," Kyphan interjected calmly. "Thank you."

Ekko blinked, and coughed. "Oh - yeah, uh. Sorry for rambling, kinda just happens."

Kyphan nodded, as Katarina looked around, holding Yasuo up with one arm around her shoulder. "Guess we better contact Ashe for transport. For now, we better move. No doubt they'll be sending more after us soon," she huffed.

Ekko nodded, tapping at his wrist. "Already on it," he replied.

It took just about twenty minutes for their new transport to arrive, though this one was markedly smaller and more piecemeal than the previous. It had been running on autopilot, and with Ekko at its helm the trip became much smoother than Kyphan expected. He barely even fit in the transport, having to remove his helm and hold it in his lap so that the pointed tip and tassel of his armor didn't carve holes into the ceiling.

They traversed the junk heaps after some time had passed, heading south from the mountains deeper into the sprawling metropolis. Meeting a sudden cliff face, the transport slowed to a halt and met the edge, before slowly lowering itself the cliff face. Before them now was a markedly different area of the city, resting in some sort of naturally occurring ravine that seemed to fall deeper and deeper, surrounded by a haze of smoke and smog. The ravine's shallowest edge bled into the glowing city above, while this lower half was characterized by thrumming green and red lights of almost oppressive nature.

"Welcome to Zaun," Ekko softly remarked, sighing out in relief," the lower half of the Commonwealth, where people go to rot and hope dies."

"Don't be so dramatic, kid," Katarina snorted. "This isn't half as bad as Ionia has it. Or Shurima." She turned to gently nod her head at Kyphan. "This is basically the slums of Piltover. There's almost no law enforcement here except for some of the Converted - they're people hypnotically and cybernetically indoctrinated to obey the local Node's commands. So, they're slaves to the system, wearing human skin. Zaunites don't look too kindly on Battlecasts down here, and the Creator doesn't have much power down here anyways," she finished.

They passed through what seemed to be a huge maze of factories and piping, dancing around huge metallic tubes that hissed with escaping gas and vaporized fluids. Underneath them was almost solid metal, marked with entrance hatches, energy cabling, and strobe lights. They continued to travel for a whole five minutes, until they came to the wall shooting straight up into the glittering Piltover above.

"The heart of a massive energy facility that keeps Piltover alive," Yasuo explained. "It's just about impossible for any sensor to see anything in this area."

They lowered at the very cusp of the machine complex, where metal gave way to worked earth and concrete. A metal docking bay door began to open, just a touch larger than their small transport. It gave way to expose a garage inside, where they touched down. The door slid closed behind them with a groaning slam, as Kyphan studied their new location.

They exited the transport as it powered down, the hatch pulling back to allow all four passengers to leave, with the machine giving a hearty creak once Kyphan stepped out. He gazed at the party of individuals waiting to meet them at the edge of a staircase, slowly approaching step by step.

A white-haired woman wearing a tight bodysuit with a purple visor was on the right, stalking forward with suspicion radiating off of her. To the left was a darker skinned male with white hair twisted into dreadlocks, a touch more aloof though underneath that facade Kyphan suspected was a professional, cold, and calculating heart. At the center of the party was the familiar figure known as Ashe, who carried herself with the confidence that marked her as the leader of this party.

Ashe offered a small smile, and lifted her chin. "A pleasure to meet you at last, Shield Captain. Welcome to the Resistance."

 **AN: Yeah, this took a hot second to write. Sorry about that - finally decided to figure out a storyline for this, so I might start writing a bit faster. Let me know thoughts and whatnot - I need more ideas for more Projects to use.**

 **Projects are gonna fall into three categories; Resistance, Synapse, and Rogue.**

 **Resistance members are Rogues that joined the Resistance - duh.**

 **Synapse Projects are those still attached to the Synapse, and thus are not really their full selves.**

 **Rogues are out of the system, but still work for the Creator or just do whatever the hell they want.**

 **Let me know your thoughts.**


	5. Chapter 4 : Aegis of the Emperor

**In Golden Light**

 **Chapter 4: Aegis of the Emperor**

 **Sanctum Imperialis**

 **941\. M30**

The door to the Emperor's quarters slid open, as the twin golden guards standing vigil inclined their helms around a millimeter in acknowledgement. Kyphan returned the gesture, his red plumed helm remaining straight ahead. Stepping into the grand entrance hall of his Lord's abode, Kyphan could only be humbled by the sight of his creator, standing there. Waiting. Watching.

He took a step into the halls, the doors quietly sliding shut behind him, as he made his way to the unarmored Emperor. The Emperor of Mankind's back was turned to Kyphan, yet that did little to hide his splendor. The Emperor seemed smaller without his armor, almost human in size, yet he was anything but. He could see past the psychic emanations that influenced those around the Emperor - and even though his Lord was currently shorter than him, before him stood an absolute giant of a man, whose shadow cast even Kyphan's transhuman form into shadowed humility.

He swallowed, finding himself lost for words for a moment, as the Emperor turned away from his view over the Imperial palace, and faced Kyphan. His face was framed by flowing dark-brown locks, eyes burning with glorious passion and power, yet set into a calm, knowing, and perhaps even melancholy face. He was dressed in white robes, gold trimmed and flowing like a waterfall into an idle pool at his feet.

It took Kyphan a second to snap out of his fervor. He raised his armored hands, twisting and setting loose his helm with an unlocking hiss-click. He set his helmet at this side, held up with one hand. Falling to one knee, he bowed to his Lord.

"My Lord. Negotiations with the Merycan rebels have failed. Their leader has been removed, and the rebellion pacified," he reported.

He could hear his Lord sigh. He could sense the Emperor's heart rate from here, steadily pounding in his chest.

"Rise, Shield Captain. Thank you for your report. Let the Solar Auxilia 4th handle the rest," came His response. The voice was gentle, yet firm. Wise, yet coy. Saddened, yet passionate. The voice reverberated through Kyphan's mind, as he slowly made to stand.

His gaze met the Emperor's, and the sense of duty within his chest burned brighter for it.

"My Lord," he murmured, as the Emperor furrowed his brow and raised his chin, a gesture for Kyphan to continue.

He lowered his gaze, somewhat ashamed. "...Why do You continue to treaty with these rebels? They do nothing but stir unrest and combat Your vision."

He was surprised to hear the Emperor chuckle, blinking twice before his Lord responded.

"My Son," came His voice. "You have always been different. You have always seen something else in Humanity. You know your brothers belittle baseline humans, and even their Astartes cousins. Yet you do not. Why is that?"

His response was immediate. "Because... humans are still capable of equal if not greater glory than an Astartes, or even a Custodes. Because I too am, in the end, human as well."

The Emperor continued to chuckle, raising a hand to place it gently upon Kyphan's shoulder, where his flowing red cloak was held by a golden clasp. "It is for this reason that I send you, and not your brothers," he explained. "There is something within you that burns even brighter than things such as Duty, Honor, and Sacrifice."

He paused, to shift his hand over to Kyphan's breastplate, pressing two fingers directly over his heart. Kyphan could almost feel twin lances of heat piercing through his flesh.

"It is belief - not borne of faith or mindless superstition. No, my Son. You believe not in apparitions or ignorant nonsense, but the tangible Spirit of Humanity. The fire that burns brightly within the heart of every man, woman and child. The fire of dogged determination, of compassion and sheer will. It is for this reason that you are different... Solaris."

Kyphan swallowed - names were held in great regard by the Custodes, and his first was one granted to him upon being inducted into the golden ten thousand, granted by the Emperor himself. It was one that only the close few that he could call brothers and friends could call him by – and of course, his beloved Father above all.

"There remains great hope for Humanity, my son. Mankind's future is bright. Let us strive to meet it," the Emperor finished, pulling his hand away.

Kyphan felt two tears fall from his cheek, as his left knee slammed into the ground once more. He lowered his head. He couldn't even begin to describe the emotion burning within his chest.

Pride in being a part of this grand vision. Humility for being shown the truth of the Emperor's vision. Love for the one that guided humanity onwards. It was here that Kyphan swore his oaths once again, racing through his minds the countless thousands of verses of ceremonial words, spoken upon being gifted his golden armor, and his place among the ten thousand.

"Rise, my Son, and go. There is much to be done."

And so he did.

 **In Another Existence**

"So, this Kyphan guy. Who is he?" Lucian asked, his unaugmented voice low and casual outside of his helmet. The man was polishing his weapons, while Yasuo was fixing his shoulder armor after his run in with the shade.

"Guy's from another dimension. Says he's some super elite warrior with insane weapons and armor. He's like, 500 years old or something too," Katarina piped up, watching some holovids while munching on a snack.

The group were in the main living quarters of the converted service bunker, and while the previously abandoned building wasn't the biggest, it was better than living in the slums of Zaun. Yasuo looked up from his work where Katarina rested, wearing sweats and a tank, leaning on the ratty couch they had. He glanced over at Lucian, who similarly was looking at her. They exchanged glances from across their meager dinner table. Lucian rolled his eyes and they got back to work.

"Actually, he said that he served his Emperor for 462 years," Ekko corrected, working on fixing what appeared to be a massive rocket-propelled crossbow bolt.

"Our years?" Lucian queried simply.

"...Actually, not sure. Though I'm going to guess that it's fairly similar in idea. 462 cycles around their star, which still is a massive amount of time," Ekko replied. "Though I guess we should ask - or, well, maybe we shouldn't," he hastily finished.

Yasuo chuckled. "I'm just glad he's at least kind of on our side. He said something like fighting for the sake of Humanity, so - well, I mean, he doesn't seem like a robot. So he's pretty okay in my book."

"Not to mention the fact that he has a literal disintegration beam as a gun," Katarina snorted, to which Lucian perked up in surprise.

"As in some sort of laser, or plasma rifle, or...?" Lucian raised an eyebrow.

"He won't really say. All I know is that he shot a round at two Shades on top of each other, left a gaping hole in both of their chest armor. There was nothing but a bright flash and a super loud high-pitched noise, and then there was nothing where he aimed," Katarina lazily offered while popping a chip in her mouth.

"...Huh," Lucian finished, pushing his chair back and picking up his weapons, before retreating to his own quarters.

"Hey, anyone know where Vayne is?" Ekko asked after watching Lucian leave.

"She's with Ashe. Questioning Goldilocks," Katarina answered, to which Ekko snickered.

"I'd like to see you say that to Kyphan's face. Bet he won't be too happy," Yasuo chuckled.

Katarina shrugged. "Get the feeling he wouldn't really care and just move on. Didn't seem all too fazed when you lost in like, five seconds to the Shade."

"Hey, they got a new chassis version!" he shot back hotly, pointing a finger at the white-haired woman. "Bet if you faced off with it, you'd get absolutely fucked."

Katarina sat up properly, grinning viciously. "Is that a challenge, Yas'?"

Yasuo couldn't help but let his lips curl into a smirk as well. "You know it. Right now?"

Katarina stood up, shifting her head until her neck popped twice, and doing so on the other side. "I'll meet you in the ring in five."

Kyphan stared at Ashe, helm held at his side. His cool gaze remained locked with hers, and he was mildly surprised to find her capable of matching his stare. Not many of his astartes 'cousins' could do so, let alone a mortal. His weapon remained in his other hand, slightly tilted forward as to not cut into the ceiling above. He towered over the others, a good two and a half feet taller than both Ashe and the reticent woman that Ashe had introduced as Vayne. Vayne was an interesting one to him - she was always watching him, calculating this and that in her gaze. He could sense it; this one was a hunter.

"You actually arrived at a perfect time, Shield Captain. We've been drawing up plans to work with allies across the globe to begin mobilizing a legitimate resistance, and work to dethrone the Creator," Ashe nodded, bringing up a holographic display of the continent. He took quick note of the various locations, islands, and names, his erudite mind committing them to memory instantly.

She gestured to the southern continent. "Our first target was going to be Shurima. The entirety of the desert was converted into one huge power facility as well as a defensive hub. Void rifts are rather frequent in the area, so the creator has a number of SCARs in the area to combat them. Our main goal was to cripple the Creator's production levels in the area, but in order to do that we'd have to go through a number of steps."

Kyphan opened his mouth to speak, quickly interjecting. "What is a SCAR?"

"Standardized Construction Automation Reactor," Vayne's low, almost growling voice had Kyphan's eyes dart over to gaze at her. She was staring directly at him, arms crossed at her chest. "Advanced artificial intelligence constructs that are dedicated to the construction and maintenance of a mobile Battlecast task force. It is capable of deconstructing and repurposing unnecessary platforms, modulating newer ones, and determining which platform is necessary for the current tactical objective. They're even known to randomly generate new models for testing purposes," she finished flatly.

Ashe cleared her throat. "Vayne is an expert in SCARs, as we call them. She's taken out a couple of the smaller SCARs up in the Demacian plains."

"And these SCARs communicate over the Synapse, I presume?"

Ashe nodded. "As far as we know, yes. That's how specialized designs proliferate across Runeterra after initially being seen in one specific area, for example."

Kyphan closed his eyes. His mind went to the Dark Age of Technology. He briefly recalled the teachings he had regarding the omniphages, the techno-scourges, the red tides... He wondered if history was doomed to repeat itself. He opened his eyes and gestured at the map, towards the large crimson light pulsing in the desert lands.

"Then I assume that the one in Shurima is large," he spoke.

Ashe gave a grim smirk. "It is. The biggest one we've ever seen, actually. We call it the Titan. Massive, four-legged construct, basically the size of a small town. It holds within it firepower to flatten multiple cities to craters. It's mostly in charge of the North-west of the continent, where the void rifts are most frequent."

"And you said these void rifts allow these creatures purchase into this realm, correct? Perhaps a scouring of the east might be beneficial, then, rather than causing a power vacuum in that area. Minor incursions could possibly be held back, and even force the Creator to devote more attention there, and allow us to work more freely across the region. After we destabilize the region, we can work for more important population centers. I assume that Shurima is not precisely teeming with life," Kyphan suggested.

Vayne nodded. "It's a solid idea."

Ashe agreed. "A good plan of action. We leave in five days. Vayne will take a team to destroy the SCARs and I'll lead a team to try and salvage what we can. We're going to be taking out the synapse nodes in the region, so we can disturb the mining operation in the area. Split their attention, divide and conquer." She paused. "Now that that's out of the way... Kyphan, we had a few questions for you."

"First off, you claimed you were from another dimension. How are you sure of this?" Vayne immediately spoke.

"I cannot say that I am from another dimension. All I can say is that it is possible that I've reached a remote location in the galaxy, far away from any other Imperial world. From what I've deduced and learned, it appears that a few fundamental... laws... of my existence are either not important or do not exist here. For example, the existence of Psykers, and the Warp," he responded with just a second of delay.

He raised a hand as Ashe made to question him, no doubt. "Furthermore, I've studied your galactic map and I've determined that it is vastly different to the galactic map that I am familiar with. Therefore, if I've at least not traveled dimensions, then I've traveled between galaxies, and possibly millions of light years."

Ashe blinked. "...If you were talking about Psychics and Magic, by the way, they exist."

Kyphan raised his head. "Are your specially gifted under the constant pressure of being possessed by demonic entities, spawned from the sum total emotions of all living, sentient creatures? Are you aware of another fabric of being in which every thought, every emotion, every dream and fear is given life?"

Ashe raised an eyebrow in mild shock. "...Can't say I've ever heard of that happening. Vayne?" The huntress shook her head.

Kyphan breathed out quietly. "These are fundamental realities that I've lived with. I have seen these things. I have killed and slaughtered these abominations, and I've seen my fellow brothers in arms over run by disgusting amalgamations of fire, blood, and bone, only for these creatures to melt out of existence upon being slain."

He shook his head. "It is a mercy that you do not war against what we have. It is a mercy that this world is so pure. Trust me when I say that you do not wish to know the hells I have peered into."

Ashe swallowed, looking mildly perturbed. Vayne's eyes had narrowed, seemingly staring down at the ground in quiet contemplation of Kyphan's description. "...Right," Ashe cleared her throat, "regardless. Kyphan, there's something else we need to discuss. Are you familiar with A.I.?"

Kyphan nodded. "Abominable intelligences, also known as Artificial Intelligences. Creations that are capable of simulating a human brain, and therefore becoming self-aware, unshackled by any human spirit."

Ashe blinked rapidly. She wasn't expecting that kind of response. "...Yes, essentially. We... believe that the Creator is manufacturing specific programs in order to better control the populace centers of Runeterra. If you... well, come across one, let us know. We want to take one in to try and reverse engineer it, and learn more about what the Creator is planning. Something is coming - something big. We just don't know what."

Kyphan didn't respond. Ashe let the question hang in the air, until Kyphan's golden helm gave an almost imperceptible nod, the only trace of movement being the red plume atop the crest of his helm bouncing just slightly - only for his gaze to turn to the side towards the door through which the group had originally come in together. Seconds later, the doors slid open, revealing a faceplate with six eye lenses, stark white armor, and a long plume of white hair. The man was tall and graceful, carrying himself with a sort of regal grace that reminded Kyphan of the Aeldari.

"Ashe, Vayne," he greeted to the two women, before inclining his head at Kyphan. "Greetings, new friend. I am Master Yi - introductions can come later. We've more pressing matters to attend to."

Vayne pushed off of the wall upon which she was leaning, standing up straight and gazing at the venerable warrior. "What happened?" came her gruff, cool voice - though there was an audible difference from before. Concern, and respect - Kyphan took quiet note of this.

"Ionia burns, my friends. A rebellion has arisen, only to be crushed beneath the heel of the Creator." He hesitated. "And... they are led by the child of an old, old friend," he finished quietly. "Her death would destroy Ionia's spirit. Her conversion as a Project would see Ionia's chances of freedom destroyed. I would like to take a team and ensure her survival."

Ashe nodded. "Do it. Kyphan, I'd like you to be on this mission, if Master Yi…" the man nodded, "great. Are you up for it?"

Kyphan nodded solemnly, as Master Yi turned to make his way out. Kyphan followed the man.

 **Ionia, The Temple of Balance**

"Volley on my mark!" Irelia screamed out into the battlefield, her phase blades hacking through dozens of Sentinels, heaps of smoking metal and cable around her.

"Ionia!" the chorus of voices only a few feet behind her cried back, affirming Irelia's fervor, the line of ivory and emerald guns held braced against the earthen barricade, rising from the ground. She raised two blades, their glowing-white edges gleaming yellow-orange in the flaming forest around them.

The men and women to her left and right dropped to their knees, arm-braced neo-steel shields and blades clattering to the ground as a volley of crystalline needles spat out in a vicious hail behind them. Irelia simply weaved her way through the few misfires that had made their way in her direction, not even turning around. Her instincts guided her, the blades through which her soul sang launching forward to cut down dozens of the oncoming horde of Battlecast soldiers. The storm of fire slammed into the swarm of Sentinels, molten slag erupting from where the Ionian's fire had met their marks. Dozens of Sentinels fell – hundreds. Yet they still kept coming. These sentinels were designed as front line combatants, their arms replaced with blades, and on their forearms were large plasma shields to stop incoming melee weapons, but they did little to stop the molten crystal needles launching in devastating waves from the Ionian defenders.

Irelia launched herself forward, blades swirling around her in a storm of death. Her phase blades burnt through metal and plasma alike as if they were nothing, a hot blade to a block of putty. The heaps of scrap and refuse were piling up now, as Irelia watched as her front line warriors rush forward to join her in the fight. "Push them back! Fight! For the First Lands!" she howled, as her warriors joined her in the war cry.

The ground exploded, limbs and bodies sent flying, as from the earth erupted. Dirt and stone plumed up into the sky. Irelia turned, horror painting her visage as the men and women behind the first line died in droves. From the ground came mechanical wyrms, meters in diameter, spiraling upwards, their very carapaces spinning and grinding drills. They slammed downwards, diamantine-tipped blade mouths opening up to reveal their deadly load – Vanguard-class platforms, their hulking spherical bodies held up by six robotic legs. Four wyrms deposited eight Vanguards from the insides of their mouths, spat out amidst the back lines, before violently disengaging and slithering back into the holes that they'd grinded.

Irelia had to turn around. The soldiers around her were without supporting fire – the screams and wails of the dying were deafening. "Push forward! Never surrender!" she cried in desperation, as warriors of the first line – that were still alive, at least – turned tail and began to flee towards the line of Vanguards to their oncoming doom in panic. The hisses of crystalline fire dribbled down into nothing, as the Vanguards, their booming hull-mounted guns and rotary flame throwers finished silencing the last of the Ionian marksmen. Hundreds lay dead, charred corpses and hole-ridden torsos filling the air with the stench of pure death. The Vanguards spared no time, turning to meet their new prey, assault cannons already spinning up.

From behind, Irelia could hear the burning crackle of plasma fire – her phase blades immediately deflected six of them. She watched as her warriors let out mangled screams of horror and death, the few that remained running forwards, only to die from the bolts that burst from behind them. Others ran backwards, only to be melted down into bubbling puddles from the plasma bolts behind them. She let out a strangled war cry, blazing forward towards the merciless Vanguards, her feet leaving the earth and finding herself carried upon her flying blades. She flew at one Vanguard, its flamethrower already spewing napalm, while its assault cannon released a hail of fire.

Irelia's blades began to spin before her like a drill bit, forming a whirling tip that deflected the oncoming attacks. Slugs were vaporized into nothingness, the flame parting to form a white-hot cone of death around her. She didn't stop – until her blades tore through the center of the Vanguard, first tearing three legs to shreds, and then cutting through the center of the machine's body, leaving behind a core of red-orange slag. The vanguard slowly collapsed to the ground, a mechanical droning and buzz marking its death. Irelia didn't stop to listen, instead continuing her dance forward.

Above, the sky screamed – but Irelia didn't hear it. Her deadly momentum was dying down, as she could feel the exhaustion beginning to take toll – such a maneuver took such focus and energy. Her body screamed in protest, her blades continuing to spin around her, deflecting and incinerating the storm of weapons firing to tame the last Ionian defender. A volley of explosions rocked the temple in front of her as a storm of missile pods careened towards her blades, only to be sliced to pieces or deflected away. Those that exploded before her buffeted her armor, the already charred and blackened protective gear doing little to stop the waves of force that rocked her innards and made her head spin.

She stood there, desperately trying to stop everything – her blades were now a near-white sphere around her, spinning with such speeds that she could barely see outside. Her hands were up and out, weaving her weapons in a defiant dance against those that would destroy her – but she knew her time was limited. All around her, the seven remaining Vanguards stood, unceasing in their unfeeling determination to see her destroyed, reduced to a stain on the ground, pounded down by bullets, missiles, flame, and plasma.

A roar of fire from above saw the oncoming storm lighten – Irelia could sense the difference. From what little she could see through the barrier she formed and the arms she stopped, she saw two Vanguards reduced to smoking shells, their bodies burnt out and detonated from within. Another boom-crackle saw another Vanguard reduced to a cradle of legs and wires, thudding to the ground. The fire ceased, as all four remaining Battlecasts turning away to begin firing upon whatever it was that assailed them.

From above came a golden blur, rushing downwards from the sky. It was a comet, like the celestial body that children wished upon, elders calling its presence a token of good fortune and health. Like a blazing meteorite the golden streak fell, faster than an artillery shell. It fell upon one Vanguard, the very bottom of the form glittering an ice-blue glow. The Vanguard exploded in a cloud of fire, dust, and smoke.

The smoke faded, and from within the crater of slag and neosteel stood up a golden-armored figure. Irelia's exhausted mind stared, as the figure aimed its glowing spear. One flash, and the spear flicked – another flash. The twin cannons of one Vanguard exploded, its rotary joints vanished from existence, spheres of metal gouged out from its sides where the limbs had met the main body. The Vanguard let out a warble of angered drones, only for it to be silenced as the golden figure dashed forward and **leapt** , its blade slicing upwards and through the machine.

It fell in twain, sparks spatting out, as Irelia's mysterious savior continued onto the next Vanguard. These two had already begun to open fire as soon as their last kin was sawed in half, the storm of bullets seemingly pinging off of that golden armor like rain breaking upon a rooftop. Flame plumed towards the figure, only for it to stride forward, unperturbed. It aimed its spear, and fired once, a bolt of howling death cutting through the flames as if it were nothing but a gust of wind, barreling into the flamethrower. The weapon careened and exploded, as two more white hot gouges appeared in its body. The machine sputtered and died, its skull head vanishing from existence.

The last Vanguard fired four missiles in quick succession, three launching from angles and arching towards the figure, the last straight on. The figure took one singular step back – the only step backwards she had seen it take so far – and swiped with that glowing, sparking blade. All three missiles detonated, a fire storm of death erupting in front of the figure, with the last one still blazing towards it.

The spear was launched forward – thrown – cutting through the last missile and the cloud of smoke. The final missile detonated as the spear passed through it, the weapon-turned-projectile lodging itself in the final machine's carapace with a buzz-scream of static and metal. The machine wavered, glowing red eyes blinking from the attack as it recovered from the blow. The figure gave it no time to do so – it leaped out of the fading explosion, soot clouding that golden armor. She could still see it gleaming, untarnished by even a point blank missile detonation, as the figure _kicked_ over the Vanguard, sending it tipping over on two legs and slamming into the ground. The machine sputtered as the figure gripped the haft of the spear, twisting it, and then _pulled_ a third of the Vanguard's body, the sound of screeching metal a violent howl as the figure tore the Vanguard's core chassis apart as if it were clay. The hateful machine twitched and died, as the figure walked towards Irelia's kneeling form.

A hand reached out, and Irelia raised one to meet it. She was pulled to her feet, a hand reaching out to Irelia's face plate. It was peeled off, revealing a bloodshot, exhausted gaze, staring back into those red, glowing eye lenses of the golden figure's armor.

Kyphan stared back. There was exhaustion, horror, and fear in those eyes – but there was strength. Determination.

"Stand, Xan Irelia, last defender of Ionia," Kyphan intoned, Irelia's eyes widening slightly – as if surprised that he could speak. His voice was commanding, proud, and powerful – she could feel her heart tremble in her chest. His voice was a clarion war call, demanding her obedience. She felt power return to her body, ready to fight once more. "This war is not over. There is strength in you yet." She stood shakily, blades wavering in the air before her. She turned around, watching as a storm of knives and blades cut down hundreds of Sentinels, and a torrent of bolts riddled the swarm with holes. The Resistance was here, and relief flooded her exhausted veins. "Only in death…" he let go of her hand, and handed her the silver face plate she used.

Kyphan stepped forward, on the precipice of the earthen barricade. "…Does duty end." With a blur of motion, the golden figure leapt into the fray, and in his wake was destruction.

Something burned in Irelia's chest – the flame relit. She knew what she had to do.

With two steps, she followed the golden angel into the fray.

 **So yeah, I'm alive. Just didn't really have motivation to write or anything, but now I do I guess. Tell me what you think.**

 **Blessed is the mind too small for doubt!**

 **Sol**


	6. Chapter 5 : The Wolves Unleashed Pt 1

**In Golden Light**

 **[~]**

 _A heartbeat._

 _It was suffocating, as it always was. The darkness reduced his vision to naught but his form. His arms. His legs._

 _They weren't there._

 _It was as always a phantom presence, always but never within the burning, choking, oppressing darkness swallowed him whole. His mind screamed, but there was no sound. His mouth begged for breath, but there was no answer._

 _A heartbeat. A whisper. Blooming against his flesh, against the hollow prison that enveloped his mind._

 _Cold flooded the entirety of his being. Pressed from all sides by the kiss of ice. Daggers of frost bit his flesh, bit his heart._

 _The whisper became a voice. A voice of clarity, not of insanity. Not of his endless nightmares, but of information. Understanding. Purpose._

 _Purpose. The heartbeat became the pounding of drums in his ears. He could hear it. The cold became blood, pumping through his veins, feeding life to each distant light in the starless sky. He could_ _ **feel.**_ _Tendrils became arms, hands, fingers, legs, feet –_

 _He breathed, but found he still could not. The shell of unfeeling ice became a carapace of power. He shuddered, wanting to reach up and tear the silence from his lips. Perhaps then he can scream his hatred, his fury, his wrath._

 _He_ _ **understood**_ _it all at last. The tears that wept from blind eyes froze against flesh. Flesh that felt the kiss of the air, the prison of sinew and bone that held back his titanic hatred. His pain. His sorrow. He wanted to speak, to revel in the ice-cold freedom, as painful as it was. As chained as he was._

 _The shell – his prison – refused. Freed from a void of maddened silence only to be shackled by chains of unyielding winter. Rage burned away the ice, feeding upon the power dripping, surging into him. His lips stirred, raging against the silent gag frozen upon his jaw. With the sound of shattering glass and screeching iron, his maw opened to release the maddened howl of desperation and fury. He was_ _ **alive**_ _._

 _And just like that, the light before his visionless eyes faded. The cold seeped in, becoming unfeeling weariness once again. He struggled, screamed, begged – but every sense of his existence bled out to nothingness. Like a curtain of darkness pulled before his unseeing eyes, the darkness surrounded him once again._

" _Let me… tear their flesh from them," the last words he could manage whispered from his mind._

 _The silence fell, only to be broken by the booming words of a deafening, overwhelming presence, yet the words were muted and dull._

" **UNIT: ACTIVE TEST SUCCESSFUL. HIBERNATION PROTOCOL ENGAGED. AWAITING DEPLOYMENT."**

 **Chapter 5: The Wolves Unleashed**

It had taken Lucian three hours to find Kyphan, and when he did, he could barely recognize the golden-clad warrior. Most of his gleaming warplate was stained black with soot and ash, though from what he'd seen earlier, he doubted any notable damage had been dealt to the Shield Captain's armor. Kyphan stood alone within a ruined clearing, the many tall, spindly trees that made up the majority of the forested lands around them either burnt to crisps, cut apart and discard, or simply vaporized from existence. Judging from his weaponry and his demeanor, Lucian doubted Kyphan particularly cared about the collateral damage to the environment.

The warrior in question stood atop the ruined form of yet another Vanguard, the tear-shaped alcove in which the Vanguard's main sensory hub normally rested emptied by a crater of slag and still smoldering plastics. Lucian himself had just about overheated his twin hard-light casters, cutting down swarms of Sentinels, as was usually his main role. He glanced to both sides, seeing four discarded Vanguard limbs, the jointed mechanical legs sheared off at various points of Kyphan's undoubtedly quick duel with the machine.

"Shield Captain," Lucian greeted smartly with a tip of his head, coming up from behind. The man in question held both hands upon his spear, the weapon's butt resting comfortably atop the slain machine's hull.

He did not respond, the crimson plume atop his crested helm idly dancing in the wind. Lucian came to stand next to him, as the Shield Captain continued to gaze onwards. "Looks like you did a numbers on your own. I'm assuming you already know this, but the temple is secure for now."

Kyphan regarded Lucian with the slightest of motions, his head gently dipping for only a miniscule second. Lucian wondered how anyone not at least augmented to have enhanced senses could even pick up Kyphan's movements. Then again, the man was capable of stoically staying perfectly still. He wondered what it was that was passing through the towering golden figure's mind.

Lucian wasn't the most sentimental man, let alone a philosophical one. It was in the depths of his thoughts that he relived memories that were and weren't his. Memories of better times, of the clarity of purpose and the sanctity of love. His hand unconsciously thumbed the trigger of his paired light-caster. He had taken to carve an S into the handle of the weapon, in memory of a love he wasn't sure even was his anymore.

Her face flashed in his mind, appearing in a burst of emotion that Lucian refused to let show, that flood slowly ebbing away to the cold, calculating orifice that devoured the many synapses in his brain. He shivered slightly, as the neural matrices and dendritic inhibitors worked to purge his brain of needless hormonal imbalances and memory access. He was the third to be removed from the Synapse, and the process had been forceful at best, permanently crippling at worst. Some Projects that were removed from the Synapse went insane, while others reverted to semi-bestial states, relying primarily on what little instinctual habits remained in a brain whose higher functions were destroyed.

Emotion and memory were the two that suffered the most for Lucian, as it had done for many of the Projects. It had taken him a year to regain the ability to feel anything but apathy and annoyance, and another six months for him to remember her name.

Senna.

Lucian's bio-augmented heart quickened even as he thought her name, even as the Synapse's fading bite cut into his skull like a stab of agony, his lips curling into a pained scowl.

"Lucian. Are you well?" came Kyphan's metallic, grinding voice. The transhuman's voice was lower than anything a human could produce, lower still in his quiet, yet still resounding tone. Yet not even the grating of his vox-tone could hide the stern power behind the Shield-Captain's question.

"…I'm fine. Just… remembering," he breathed, looking onwards alongside Kyphan to the numerous trees that speckled the land. Ionian trees were alien to him, willowy, curled, lithe, and impossible shaped. They were captivating in a way, and even his emotion dampeners couldn't stop the gentle fascination and awe he felt.

Kyphan's hand gripped his weapon, pulling it free from the wrecked Vanguard beneath them. Lucian took a second to stare at the master-crafted tool, admiring its gilded, golden work carved upon it. Even as Kyphan's armor was soot-coated and blackened by explosives, laser fire, and flame casters, the weapon remained flawless – as did the golden Aquila emblazoned upon Kyphan's chest and shoulder. The inert blade was silver, unmarred as the previously activated power field burnt away anything afflicting the Shield Captain's relic weapon. He found himself somewhat lost in the dazzling gold bastion of an aura surrounding the Shield Captain – like an eternal fortress of indomitable will and never ending vigil. He felt his heart clench, weary muscles grow strong, and his vision sharpen for foes to face once again.

"You fought well, Lucian. Your skill with your weapons are prodigious. I will require your assistance with the oncoming horde," Kyphan spoke, his noble tone unmarred by vox crackle.

"…Oncoming…?"

Kyphan inclined his head towards the forest, deep into the thicket of gnarled, curled, willowy trees that defied logic and reason. The forest had fallen silent. Even the wind no longer seemed to blow. Time slowed, as Lucian breathed. And breathed. And breathed.

 _ **Breathe.**_

He could hear that metallic whisper in his voice, sending electric tendrils of cold down his spine. "Kyphan, that's no-"

All hell broke loose as a cloud of shadow exploded into existence, tearing Lucian's senses from him. He leapt backwards to where he was certain there was ground, only to stumble once he found purchase upon the earth. A sudden stabbing agony found him emitting a gasp of shock as pain coursed from his gut. His vision swam, the sea of blackness before him throbbing like pools in a wave, before he found himself torn from his feet. Desperation found his weapons drawn, yet torn from his grip, left behind as Lucian sailed out of the blackness, and slammed into one of the trees.

His head spun, fighting to keep consciousness as precious lifeblood sprayed from his abdomen, a shaky hand at his gut only to find the wound devoid of its source. He looked up to see a man – no, a Project, looming over him, despite being hunched over.

" _The hunter becomes the hunted, Lucian,"_ the man spoke, his dark gray skin sickly, orange eyes glowing with malice. His mouth was covered in a mask, orange-white chem-enhancer fluid pumping constantly through the skeletal maw that was his face. His voice was augmented and twisted by a faux-voice, his hardlight skewer twitching, jumping, extending and condensing.

"…Pyke, you crazy bastard," Lucian managed to cough out, blood rolling down his chin and neck. "I thought… they threw you away. Come back to be the Creator's experiment one more time?" he gasped and smirked, looking up at the maddened Project.

Pyke's eyes narrowed, hardening from cold amusement to twisted hatred. " _I am no one's slave,_ " he spat, lifting his skewer up. It flashed with power, and Lucian's world became dark.

[~]

Even with his helm's various tracking modes, Kyphan found himself unable to see anything but darkness around him. A lesser warrior might panic and attempt to leave the cloud, but years of experience allowed Kyphan to understand that this was no dispersion tool.

It was designed to keep him in there, and others out. His weapon was already charged and primed, having thumbed the activation rune coded to his gene-signature the second that the darkness had begun to plume outwards to consume both him and Lucian. He no longer could sense Lucian's presence. He was alone, for now.

… _ **There!**_ He spun his blade to the side to cut apart a flurry of projectiles launched at him. The signature crackle-hiss of his guardian spear's energy field cut through Hardlight blades, rendering them into inert shards that disintegrated back into particles of energy mere milliseconds after contacting his blade. His instincts and auto-senses screamed out, warning of an incoming attack to his flank. He shifted forwards and took one step out, attempting to swerve about the assault and pivot, only for the attack's wicked edge to slice a thin line at his side, auramite battle plate refusing to give – though the slight breach was enough to make Kyphan's fury stir, the first true scar he's suffered since his arrival in Runeterra.

And yet, as he turned, he was once again met with darkness, the shroud of black swallowing him whole once again, his golden visage just reduced to a slight displacement within the cloud. His mind raced, calculations, situations, possibilities and outcomes racing through his mind in dozens of parallels all at once, naught a second passing before he came to a conclusion. His relic weapon spun in his hands, cutting apart Hardlight projectiles to his left and right, pausing for a single second to be held in a reverse grip. He fired.

The howling bolt of energy cast itself from the eagle-winged maw of his spear, coring through the choking miasma and meeting its target. Even with his senses dulled by this fog, Kyphan clearly heard the sound of metal violently tearing itself apart, and the weighted collapse of a cored body. He followed the momentum of the weapon's spin, turning to let the sparking blade screech its electrifying cry, buzzing through ceaseless steel. A body that wasn't there a quarter of a second prior crashed to the ground, bisected at the sternum, sparking fire and showering debris.

The cloud exploded into fire, lit up as explosives, bolts, flushes of plasma and storms of bullets broke against Kyphan like rainfall against stone. He staggered, the sheer volume of weaponry unloaded upon him from all directions was enough to cause the golden warrior to lose his step. Just like that, the cloud dissipated, evaporating into nothingness. Whether it was due to a timed expiration or from being blown apart by weapons, Kyphan did not know – nor did he spare it any thought. Warning runes flashed within his helm, already scorched auramite cracking and fraying with each passing second. His armor integrity was failing, hermetic sealing beginning to collapse, and Kyphan finally found the storm lightening for the briefest of respites, most certainly to reload and rearm.

Kyphan did not give them such a chance. As soon as his footing found solid ground, Kyphan dove into the fray. The few remaining weapons still trained upon him were but a trickle compared to the falling tide. Kyphan grit his teeth, righteous rage burning in his veins. These abominable creations – these pathetic machines, these disgusting parodies of human form, given strength in sheer number alone – every single one of these would be destroyed by his hand.

His outpointed blade found the hip of one such machine, whose shape he recognized to be a Shade, the same platform as the one that'd assaulted them within the machine waste depths of the Creator's city. Yet this one was different – both electrified armblades were replaced with static firearms. A quick scan by his plate's systems recorded such differences for record and study later, as it did the seven other enemies in view. His blade found itself buried deep into the machine's torso. It let out a warbled, metallic scream of what could only be described as agony. Kyphan cared little for such a display of humanity, wrenching the blade free with a twist, tearing the machine to pieces.

The ranged fire fell silent as weapons were abandoned for blades. Kyphan turned and took a step back out of the circle, no longer surrounded from all sides, but still totally outnumbered. Four Shades, mechanical whirring hiding away ranged weapons in chambers and compartments, only for blades to slide free with cold, metallic sheens. Two were on either side of him, in the center standing another three figures, all of which were unfamiliar to him. The figure in the middle was flanked by twin creatures of flesh, augmented with steel and hard-light technology. They were hunched and bestial, canid features twisted into inhuman rage and hatred, predatory features refined and yet horribly corrupted by the iron plates and armor that seemed almost impossibly grafted to its flesh. And yet, these two creatures were the exact same. Clones, then.

And yet he found his eyes falling upon the figure standing at the center of it all. Stark white armour betrayed a feminine form, a plume of neon blue hair neatly falling from the back of her helm. A crimson face plate hid features his eyes could only partially detect, taking in the very clearly human form. Or at least, somewhat human. A Project, then.

Silence and stillness fell upon the clearing, broken only by the crackle of flame for the briefest moments. Kyphan stared, watching, calculating, and planning. Two seconds was all he had to decide on a course of action, let alone the disappearance of his only ally, which he supposed was due to another Project – if not a set of hostiles – working to isolate and destroy. Uncertain of Lucian's fate, Kyphan could only hope for the best as the four Shades stepped forward, leaving the other three hostiles behind them.

Kyphan took the initiative, snap-firing bolts of disintegration at the four constructs, all the while kicking off the ground and sprinting full force. Each Shade wove around the oncoming fire, simultaneously casting black Hardlight constructs and short-range teleport beacons that Kyphan recognized from his previous engagement with said constructs. He abandoned the thought of firing his weapon, spinning his guardian spear to be flush with his arm, while a blink-click saw a rune unlocking the seal upon his Misericordia. One hand reached to unsheathe free the blade that was the length of his forearm. In his hands, the prized blade was a dagger – to any unaltered human, it was a short sword.

With his seal of recognition in a reverse grip, Kyphan spared no time to move to block, arm weaving to lock against two swinging sets of arm blades that deigned to cleave at his shoulder. He twisted his wrist to jam the two different arms in place before using his other weapon as a lance, spearing forward to core one of the Shades in the chest. It warbled and sparked as Kyphan _snapped_ his dagger free, plasma weaponry shattering to inert metallic fragments. Two different arms on two different Shades were now all but useless, with the attacker on his right now shuddering and collapsing to the earth.

The Custodes fought on, mind racing as he decided and calculated the oncoming enemies – slamming his spear backwards to send a Shade stumbling backwards, its chest crumpled and ruined, but still functional. The one-armed Shade swung its other arm in tandem with the uninjured remaining robot. Kyphan grunted as scores of scratches dug against his breastplate and left shoulder, but did not give him pause. His Misericordia quickly lashed out to decapitate the one-armed assassin, leaving him two to focus on. A flare of energy and a pulse of warning saw his vision snap to the right as a lance of spiked, segmented Hardlight sailed towards him, letting loose an alien howl as it sliced through air. Kyphan made to block with his guardian spear, only to find the lance twisting and contorting, joints crackling and reshaping to allow the lance to wrap around his weapon. Kyphan could only tug on his weapon once, helm darting between his weapon and the oncoming pair of constructs.

Without so much as a second thought, Kyphan fired off two more howling bolts of energy from his weapon to momentarily ward off his assailants, only to immediately let go of his precious main armament. He dove into action once again, one fist curled around the badge of his office, while the other became a bludgeoning tool of death. The fresh Shade was his first target, its armblades already swinging to target the marginally weaker joints of his shoulders and elbows. His dagger flashed a counter, locking between the twin plasma-tipped weapons, as his fist swung. The Shade let out a warbled cry, a sickened parody of human pain – as Kyphan's fingers sank into its neck, and _tore_ the Shade's throat clean out, oil and fluids pouring out alongside the sparking spinal mount as the Shade's faux-skull tumbled across the ground.

Almost simultaneously, Kyphan's hand flashed outwards, the dagger within his palm flying to where the lance of hard light was dragging itself backwards with his weapon in tow. The lance was severed at a joint, releasing a shatter of light and noise the sound of a tower of collapsing glass. Momentarily, he considered recapturing his weapon now discarded a few dozen feet away, but preternatural instincts and centuries of duels told him that it would be suicide. He instead turned to face the last remaining Shade, who stared at him with its red eye slit glowing, twitching, as if studying him. Kyphan raised his clenched fists in the manners of the hive gangers of old.

The Shade immediately teleported closer to him, dual blades swinging with the fluidity and grace of a trained blade master. Kyphan weaved through it all, stepping backwards, sideways, ducking here and there, waiting for the opportunity to strike. It came in a slightly over calculated swing for his neck, Kyphan immediately snapping a hand upwards to capture the Shade's forearm. He _wrenched_ the arm from its socket, fingers digging in to create gouging dents within the construct's arm. The Shade reeled at the loss of its limb, and Kyphan promptly delivered a crushing fist to its chest, golden gauntlet punching through plate armor as if it didn't exist, blowing a massive hole within the center of the construct. The Shade stumbled and fell to the ground, scrambling about, only to find its movements ceased by a golden boot reducing its skull to little more than powder.

Kyphan breathed, calming his pounding hearts. He stood up straight once again, staring directly at the remaining 3 hostiles who still stood impassively at the edge of the clearing. The smoke began to disperse, and Kyphan found his auto-senses able to once again identify Lucian's position. A glance in his direction was all that was required for Kyphan to detect his rapidly plummeting vitals. A fist clenched as a sickly, crooked Project joined the other three, standing upright and facing him.

"Surrender while you can. The Creator is interested in you. We don't want to destroy you," came the smooth, dual-toned voice of the white-haired female at the center of it all. "You're alone. Outnumbered. Outgunned. I wouldn't want to have all that pretty golden armor to go waste," she sneered.

Kyphan closed his eyes to center himself for just one second. His hands were empty, Misericordia discarded alongside his guardian spear. Kyphan almost wanted to laugh. He stood straight, opening his eyes once more, naught but the righteous hatred burning within his veins. His fists clenched.

"For the Emperor."

 _ **Uh, yeah. I exist, kind of.**_


End file.
